


Light Me Up

by eorumverba



Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 03:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8561881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eorumverba/pseuds/eorumverba
Summary: (The rhythms and lyrics in his head had all dissolved to thoughts of Hakyeon, Hakyeon, Hakyeon)





	

Wonshik met Hakyeon by complete chance. Hakyeon said it was fate, but Wonshik begged to differ. It’d been a simple accident, that he’d mistaken the date and went to the theater a day early. Not that he was complaining - it was just an unconventional way to meet the person that would (as cliche as it sounds) change his life.

Wonshik finally found the dance theater after frantic minutes of circling the block and the one next to it. He was sure that Taemin had given him the wrong address (as he was prone to do) or at least the wrong number - but when he got off of his motorcycle to check, he realized that Taemin had been right - this was the right number, right street, right block. This was where Taemin would be performing in - five minutes.

It was only because it was Taemin that Wonshik would even consider doing something like this - and on a Friday night too? Fridays were reserved for drinking the night away and binging on whatever drama happened to be on. That, or writing lyrics and not sleeping.

Not watching dance shows.

But this was Taemin, and when Wonshik refused, the brat used his puppy face, and Wonshik was sold.

So here he was, standing in line for a ticket, trying to get the fragmented lyrics from his head (for at least two damn hours, or however long the show would take) and wishing he’d brought more money for snacks.

Finally getting his ticket and struggling with the seat - the guy next to him offered to hold his popcorn while Wonshik got the seat to work - and when Wonshik turned back, the guy had one hand in the popcorn, a disarming grin on his face.

“What are you - why didn’t you buy your own?”

“Taekwoon won’t share, because last time I ate the whole thing, so thanks! I’m Jaehwan, by the way.”

“Wonshik.”

“And this is Taekwoon.” Jaehwan prodded the man next to him and he leaned forward a bit, blinking at Wonshik.

“Hello.” And with that, he leaned back into seat, ignoring the other two.

“It’s your first time, isn’t it? Are you excited?” Jaehwan had another hand in Wonshik’s popcorn, but Wonshik didn’t couldn’t himself to get mad. Jaehwan was like an excitable puppy, and the sudden intimacy with someone he’d just met was…strangely comfortable.

“Taemin forced me to come, but I guess I am, a little.”

Jaehwan gaped at that, then frowned. “But Hakyeon is a great dancer!”

_Hakyeon?_

The lights dimmed, and Jaehwan shushed him, as if he hadn’t been the one talking.

But before Wonshik could voice his confusion, the curtains opened on the stage and a simultaneous silence fell for the crowd, so in unison that Wonshik shivered.

And then a man stepped out from the wings and when he reached the center, he began to dance.

It wasn’t exactly the dance that made Wonshik lose his breath, it wasn’t the man’s coloring either - it was a mixture of all these things. He was slim and willowy in the way a birch tree would be, and he moved effortlessly, each bend and roll and pop and twist of his body calculated but so… _effortless_ that Wonshik wondered if he’d practiced, or just made the dance up as he went along. It was clear that the man - Hakyeon - had been well trained in dance; it almost made Wonshik want to dance again. He moved like smoke and water and thunder, and Wonshik loved it.

And his coloring - black clothes were a stark contrast against gold (no, bronzed - caramel and honey) skin and equally dark hair, but the most striking thing about Hakyeon was the fact that he was _blindfolded_.

Each movement he made blind, trusting the stage and the music and his body wholeheartedly, and now Wonshik could see why the crowd was entranced, why the theater was full.

(The rhythms and lyrics in his head had all dissolved to thoughts of Hakyeon, Hakyeon, _Hakyeon_ )

He didn’t know how long he’d been staring at Hakyeon, but then as suddenly as his dance began, it ended, and he bowed to the crowd, and retreated to the wings.

“Wonshik, did you like it?”

“Is he coming back?”

“No,” Jaehwan tilted his head in confusion (he looked like a lost puppy for a moment), “the show’s done.”

“Done - what do you mean, done? It’s been like five minutes!”

“An hour and a half.” came Taekwoon’s quiet voice.

“He might come back for an encore-”

“No.” Taekwoon stood, brushed past them.

“What does he mean, no?”

Jaehwan shrugged, “Taekwoon and Hakyeon have known each other for ages. Taekwoon says he can tell if it’ll be an encore night by Hakyeon’s face. Nice meeting you, Wonshik, and thanks for the popcorn!” Jaehwan stood and bounced after Taekwoon, catching up to the elder (who had been waiting) and hooking an arm through his. Taekwoon shook him off, and Jaehwan continued talking with animated gestures.

There was only two thoughts thrumming through Wonshik’s brain, though.

One: I have to write this down. And two:

_I have to see him again._

And as he penned out fragments (his brain was faster than his hand, and he ended up crossing things out and scribbling words and circling others to see how they could connect), still in his seat, there came the quiet noise of a door opening and closing. Wonshik looked up and saw Hakyeon shuffling onto the stage again - he suddenly sank to his knees and Wonshik was on his feet and bounding down to the stage before his brain could come up with some reason as to why he shouldn’t.

“Hakyeon - are you okay?”

Hakyeon’s head whipped up (still blindfolded) and a hesitant smile crossed his face, “What are you doing here - the show’s over.” His voice was warm, and Wonshik loved it.

“I was - just leaving. Then I saw you fall, and-”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Hakyeon waved away his concerns with a hand, “and how do you know my name?”

“Jaehwan told me.”

“You know Jaehwan?” Hakyeon looked surprised, but pleased.

“We sat next to each other, and he stole my popcorn. Taekwoon was there too.”

A delighted laugh and Hakyeon shook his head, “Taekwoon wouldn’t share his, then?”

“No, Jaehwan said it was because he’d stolen it all last time.”

Hakyeon toyed with the hem of his shirt, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You never told me your name.”

“Wonshik - Kim Wonshik.”

“Wonshik.” Hakyeon tested the name, “Kim Wonshik. Wonshik.”

Wonshik decided he rather liked the way Hakyeon said his name.

“Cha Hakyeon. Or, as many know me, N.”

“Why N?”

Hakyeon just smiled again, and stood. “You already know enough for tonight, I think. Next time, maybe.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I don’t live here, Wonshik.” Hakyeon sounded amused.

“Do you want to get coffee?”

“I - no. I don’t like coffee.” Hakyeon looked slightly panicked, but quickly smoothed over his features.

“If it’s too busy, we can go somewhere else, somewhere more private. If that’s fine with you.”

Hakyeon covered his smile with a delicate hand, “Are you flirting with me?”

So Wonshik chanced a, “Are you indulging me?”

At that, a full laugh escaped Hakyeon’s lips. “I’d love to, Wonshik, but not tonight. Another time, maybe.”

Hakyeon was gone before Wonshik could offer his number.

* * *

Sundays for Wonshik were his laziest days. He’d wake up at maybe ten or eleven, and eat breakfast at twelve. He’d laze around the television for a while, then go for a run, go to Kibum’s coffee shop for lunch, and hit the gym. By the time he got back, it’d be evening. He’d make himself dinner (or order takeout), watch more television, shower, write, and sleep.

But this Sunday, he was rudely awakened at six by pounding on his door and his phone buzzing angrily.

“Wha-?” he mumbled into his phone, fully intending on going back to sleep.

“Don’t you dare go back to sleep, hyung, get your lazy ass down here and open the door!” It was Taemin, and he was mad. Taemin only ever swore when he was mad.

“Coming, coming…” Wonshik knocked the phone to the floor and rolled over. Maybe in five minutes.

It wasn’t until he heard Taemin threaten to break down the door that Wonshik rolled out of bed and stumbled down the stairs and unlocked the door.

“ _Hyung_ \- jeez, you look horrible.” Taemin’s yelling abruptly ceased and he looked worried, brushing at the bags under Wonshik’s eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep. I only got two hours and then you woke me up.”

Taemin had the decency to at least look apologetic, then shoved a coffee and doughnut at Wonshik. “Eat.”

Taemin made himself at home on Wonshik’s couch, curling up in the corner, head resting on his hand. He waited for Wonshik to plop down across from him and begin to eat before saying, “You missed my show.”

“I went Friday, I thought I had the right date.”

Taemin huffed, “So you saw Hakyeon, then.”

“How’d you know?”

“He performs every Friday.” Taemin squinted at Wonshik, “whatever you’re thinking of, don’t do it.”

“I’m not thinking of anything - how well do you know Hakyeon?”

“No, Wonshik, you’re not going to-”

“I couldn’t sleep since Friday because of him, Taemin, come _on_.”

Taemin flinched back at the outburst, then smoothed over his features and began to pick at the invisible lint on his sweater sleeve before answering. “He doesn’t really - do well. With dating. You shouldn’t get too invested.”

Wonshik ran a hand through his hair, “I can’t get him out of my head. I need to see him again.”

Taemin shook his head, sighed. “It’s - complicated. I don’t know how much he wants you to know about his private life.”

“Then take me to him.”

“It’s not that simple, Wonshik.”

“Jonghyun.”

The one word made Taemin still. After a long moment, Taemin carded a hand through his hair and chewed his lip. “I’ll talk to him. But more importantly, did Kibum tell you what he’s going to do for Jonghyun’s birthday?”

“No, what?” Wonshik settled in next to Taemin, intent on going back to sleep.

“He’s going to make a new coffee flavor - all the things Jonghyun likes best - and promote it for his birthday-”

That’s about where Wonshik fell asleep.

* * *

When he woke again, Taemin was downstairs, spread out on the couch as he watched television.

“How long was I asleep?” Wonshik winced as he heard his voice, rough from sleep.

“Few hours. I stopped by Kibum’s and he gave me some food for you when I told him how little you’ve been sleeping. It’s free, so don’t worry.” Taemin gestured to the fridge and watched as Wonshik made his way to the kitchen.  
Wonshik just grunted around a mouthful of the pastry Kibum had gotten for him and looked up as Taemin wandered into the kitchen.

“I talked to Hakyeon while you were asleep,” he began, “and he said he doesn’t want to see you. I’m sorry, hyung.”

Wonshik nodded slowly, watching as Taemin’s fingers played with the sleeves of his shirt.

“I really am sorry, hyung,” Taemin said in a small voice, “but-”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. It was stupid of me to hope, anyway.”

…Which was why he was back at the theater the next Friday.

“Wonshik!” Jaehwan trilled, one arm coming around his shoulders.

Conveniently, Wonshik happened to be buying snacks as Jaehwan saw him.  
“And a large popcorn.” Wonshik glared at Jaehwan, but the excited smile he received made his frown melt into a smile.

“Thanks, Wonshikkie - how old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“I’m your hyung, then - I’m twenty-three. But don’t worry about formalities, Wonshikkie, I like you.”

“I like you too, Jaehwan.” And it was true. If they’d met in any other circumstance, they’d have been fast friends.

“Wonshik,” Taekwoon appeared by Jaehwan’s side and gave a nod to the youngest.

“How long have you known Hakyeon?”

Taekwoon narrowed his eyes at Wonshik and, after a moment, “Years. We have to sit.” And without another word, he took Jaehwan’s arm in his hand and pulled him through the doors to sit.

“Sit with us, Wonshik!” Jaehwan called over his shoulder, making grabby hands at the popcorn in his hand. Already resigned to his fate, Wonshik followed.

Hakyeon had a different dance that night - Jaehwan told him in hushed whispers that each performance picked up where it left off, like a story, per se. Tonight, Hakyeon was a rushing river and lighting and the wind, furious, dangerous. There was an encore as well - and now he was morning fog of spring and midnight heat haze in the summer and the first snow of winter. Again, Wonshik waited for the room to empty before he picked his way to where Hakyeon was kneeling again.

“Hakyeon, why didn’t you want to see me?” Blunt, straight to the point.

“Is _that_ what Taemin told you?” Hakyeon twined the edge of his blindfold around his fingers, sitting back.

“You didn’t tell him that, then? You do want to see me?”

“Ah,” Hakyeon’s voice was wistful now, “I would love to see - you.”

“I’m free any time.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Hakyeon’s voice was as gentle as the smile on his lips, “but - not yet.”

“Why not?”

“In Japanese, the ‘yeon’ in my name is pronounced like ‘en’. That same character means fate. I think everything that’s happened up until now…that has to be fate. Goodnight, Wonshik.”

It wasn’t until Wonshik got home that he realized Hakyeon had answered his question from the week before.

* * *

Saturday afternoon.

Wonshik decided to drive to Kibum’s shop to relieve him of his nuisance of a boyfriend.

As soon as Kibum saw him, he pointed to Taemin, who was nursing a cup of something hot and steaming by the window. He had his earbuds in, and a beanie hiding most of his freshly dyed lavender hair and he was wearing Jonghyun’s glasses, all hipster aesthetic. Wonshik snorted.

“He’s being more of a brat than usual, take him.”

Wonshik shrugged, ignoring Taemin’s pout. “He’s _your_ boyfriend.”

Kibum just raised a brow, lips pursed. “Yeah, well, Jjong is busy on some project, only comes out to eat.”

“And when he’s feeling ro,” Taemin added, slipping up next to Wonshik, “hi, hyung. Why are you here?”

“I’m relieving Kibum of you. I had a feeling you were being more of a nuisance than usual.”

A dry snort from Kibum and a too-innocent smile from Taemin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m never a nuisance.”

“ _Goodbye_ , you two.”

“Hyung, how’s your situation with Hakyeon?” Taemin asked from around his ice cream.

They were driving past the park and Taemin saw an ice cream truck and demanded that Wonshik buy him some, so here they were, eating ice cream in the park. It almost made Wonshik feel like a kid again.

“Is it possible that someone can get more beautiful each time you see them?”

Taemin grins, nods. “Well yeah. Just look at me.”

“ _Taemin_.”

“Would you still want to be with him if he were different?”

“What do you mean, different?”

“Would you?” Taemin’s gaze was steady, serious. It was a sharp contrast against the melting ice cream cone in his hand and his lavender hair.

“I would.”

Taemin nodded, took a satisfied lick of his ice cream. “Good.”

* * *

It wasn’t until the next night that Wonshik figured it all out.

Taemin told him simply to go to the theater and when he got there, Taemin was moving effortlessly on the stage, dancing for no one. It was beautiful, Wonshik thought, but not as beautiful as Hakyeon’s dance. When Taemin caught sight of him, he slowed and finished, pulling his earbuds from his ears and pushing his hair from his eyes.

“Wait here.”

Wonshik nodded, took an awkward seat in the first row and waited. He only looked up when he heard light footsteps, and then there came Taemin, holding Hakyeon’s hand in his own. The blindfold was still covering his eyes, and Wonshik frowned. Hakyeon wasn’t dressed for practice, so why-

“Taeminnie tells me you’ve developed an interest in me.” Hakyeon sounded amused, hesitant, nervous.

“Ever since I saw you dance.”

Taemin looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. He just sat on the stage, legs dangling.

“You’re wondering why I’m blindfolded.” Hakyeon said then, reaching behind him to undo the knot. “Come here.”

As if in a trance, Wonshik moved forward until he was just in front of Hakyeon, and then the blindfold fell from Hakyeon’s closed eyes and he blinked them open with a sad smile, and now everything made sense

“You’re blind.”  



End file.
